


October Is Burning

by Anri_Kohaku



Series: Kinktober [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Begging, Biting, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Boot Worship, Coming Untouched, Corset, Deepthroating, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, High Heels, Kinktober, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rare Pairings, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-07-23 05:43:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16152794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anri_Kohaku/pseuds/Anri_Kohaku
Summary: A collection of Kinktober drabbles:Day 1. Matsukawa/Tsukishima, deep-throatingDay 3. Daishou/Kuroo, sensory deprivationDay 6. Sugawara/Tendou, corset + begging + boot worshipDay 17. Ushijima/Tendou, orgasm denial





	1. Matsukawa/Tsukishima, deep-throating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's starting, yay!  
> This chapter is written for [Schuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schuu/pseuds/Schuu). Hope you enjoy it. Hope everyone enjoys it~

It's not like they are in a relationship. In a Relationship — with the capital R and all the troublesome stuff which surrounds the concept. They just occasionally happen to go out together (not on a date), text each other and have sex in any available corner.

“Nice game,” Matsukawa comments while they are heading down the corridor away from the gym. “And I'm sorry about your face.”

Kei reflexively licks his lips, taste of blood still tangible. A volleyball hit him strong enough to rip the skin in the corner of his mouth. At least it didn’t break his nose and it's just a practice match, so Kei is not missing that much and the pain is bearable. He just needs to check with a school nurse for everyone else to stop panicking.

“I'm sorry about your face too,” he replies holding back a smirk.

“Why? Mine is okay.”

“Who told you that?” — and now he grins.

Matsukawa chuckles, not offended in the least. That is something Kei appreciates about him: whatever witty remark he comes up with, Matsukawa either laughs or bites back, and never gets angry.

“Here,” he nods at the door with a red cross sign and opens it letting Kei in.

The air inside is soaked in a strong chemical smell and bright daylight, even more blinding because of white walls. Kei scans through the room finding only an empty desk.

“Seems like the nurse has gone somewhere,” Matsukawa states the obvious.

Kei turns to face him.

“I can wait for her alone,” he says. “Thanks for showing me the way.”

It's Seijo High, so when Kei got hurt, someone had to see him to the nurse’s office. Matsukawa volunteered before anyone else, leaving the court in the middle of a set. So unreasonable. These useless sacrifices make Kei nauseous. Or maybe it's a concussion.

Meanwhile Matsukawa doesn’t seem to be in a hurry at all.

“If the nurse is not here, I can take care of you.” 

With this said, he locks the door. It clicks, sharp sound startling Kei.

Nothing has happened yet, but nervousness already tickles under his ribs. When Matsukawa tugs him forward by a collar of the shirt crushing their lips together, it’s like a steep slope of a roller coaster. Matsukawa licks the wound harshly and Kei hisses.

“Easy,” he warns. But doesn’t actually expect Matsukawa to pull away.

Kei frowns and before he knows it, Matsukawa gets down on his knees, looking seductively from under black eyelashes like a devil he is. Kei is caught by surprise only for a few moments before he gathers messy thoughts and what-if’s (“what if the nurse comes back”, “what if someone hears us”) only to toss them away. He doesn’t need to ask what this means, so he smirks and tugs his shorts and underwear down with one hand while the other caresses Matsukawa’s curls.

“What kind of a crazy pervert are you?” Kei asks raising an eyebrow.

Matsukawa snorts and leans closer until his lips are touching the tip of his cock, already half-hard from their hasty making out. His warm breath against Kei’s sensitive skin sends shivers through his whole body. He circles the head with wet tongue and sucks it into his mouth. Kei lets out a sharp exhale, his grip on the black hair tightens — and if it hurts, Matsukawa doesn’t give a sign.

“We don't have time,” says Kei, and Matsukawa hums, his lips still stretched around the cock. “So do your best to finish this quickly. Open up.”

As Matsukawa opens his mouth obediently, Kei pushes him back until his head is pressed against the door. Kei has never harbored any illusions about commanding Matsukawa, he loses control as easily as he gains it, but while he has the control — he is going to use it in full. He bucks his hips forward hitting the soft palate, feeling its hectic contractions. It makes him weak in the knees and craving for more. He directs Matsukawa’s head a bit up to slide even deeper, right into his throat, sheathing the whole length in. Matsukawa is trapped between him and the door with no possibility to move, taking sharp inhales through his nose. The spit leaks from the corners of his flushed mouth down the chin. Kei can barely focus on the beautiful view, his world falling apart into pieces and sanity failing him utterly. It’s not until he hears a low demanding moan that he pulls away. A thought that he might have gone too harsh shatters the moment he catches a smoldering dark gaze, piercing him through despite a faint glimmer of tears. Matsukawa keeps his mouth open invitingly, tongue rolling the cock from one chick to the other. It is suddenly too hard to stand upright; thankfully, there are hands gripping Kei’s hips firmly. The way they guide him forward is a clear sign — “Do not even try to hold back”. God, he won’t. His erection moves in and out between swollen lips so smoothly, meeting no resistance. With every thrust, with every skillful move of Matsukawa’s tongue, a new wave of heat surges through his veins. Kei’s eyes flutter closed and he bites violently into the lower lip trying to contain any indecent noises. A chill surface of the door feels relieving against his sweaty forehead. It doesn’t take long — which is perfect, given the circumstances — until Kei is pushed to his limit. He stiffens and can’t even breath as Matsukawa sucks on the head of his cock and swallows everything up to the last drop. He gives a few more teasing licks to the oversensitive skin and then pulls the underwear and shorts up making sure everything is neatly in place.

Kei struggles with his heartbeat and haze blocking his mind; it’s worse than right after he got hit into the face with a volleyball. Once Matsukawa is back on his feet, Kei pulls him into a kiss, wet and too sloppy for his liking but it’s the best he can manage right now.

"Service in return?" Matsukawa murmurs catching his wrist and guiding his hand down until the palm is pressed against the hard bulge between his legs.

Kei curls his fingers feeling a familiar thickness under the fabric. It’s when they both clearly hear footsteps in the corridor, and a second later a door handle turns. Kei jumps back like a scared cat, his heart almost breaking the ribs.

“Easy,” Matsukawa mouths at him, waits for one more deep breath and then clicks the lock open. “Hey, good morning!” he says, facing the nurse, his voice sweet like sugar. “The handle must be jamming, you better get someone to fix it. By the way, I’ve brought a patient, he was hurt during the practice. Gonna leave now. Was nice to meet you. Thank you. Bye.”

And without letting his smile falter Matsukawa disappears before the nurse has a chance to answer or to notice a prominent strain in his pants. Kei bows politely in front of the dumbfounded nurse. He is so gonna remind Matsukawa of this.


	2. Daishou/Kuroo, sensory deprivation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for [Amaryllis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amaryllis133/pseuds/Amaryllis133). Thank you for the request, it's been a while since I've written about these boys and I've missed them.

Kuroo can't trust Daishou. He can't relax when he is out of control over a situation. He squirms uncomfortably and checks the ropes tying his wrists to the headboard.

“If you're gonna leave me like this, I'll get free, hunt you down and kill you, I promise.”

Kuroo doesn't see Daishou’s expression because of a damned piece of fabric wrapped over his eyes, but he imagines him terrified and intimidated. Daishou ruins the nice picture with a chuckle.

“How could I. I'm going to have fun with you while you are so helpless.”

Kuroo grunts clenching his fists. He is unable to move with Daishou straddling him, quite heavy despite his skinny appearance, so he lies there — naked, tied up, and blindfolded. It could be the worst situation ever if it wasn’t for his solid arousal. Of course, Kuroo has consented to all of this, and he is rather excited, to be honest. It’s just, he can’t let his guard down. Not with Daishou.

“Okay, go ahead with having fun or whatever,” Kuroo waves his hand neglecting the fact that the gesture must look ridiculous because of the ropes.

Daishou doesn’t move. He sighs heavily, as if suddenly tired to the core, and then asks way too seriously:

“Have I ever betrayed your trust?”

Kuroo scowls.

“Duh, want me to list?”

Without answering, Daishou lies down onto the bed and stretches beside him, pressing to his side. His hand caresses Kuroo’s body, his chest, and neck, and jawline, as Daishou speaks.

“Remember that time in high school we picked a fight after a practice match? Right in the corridor. Coaches scolded the hell out of us and forced us to take three, oh my god, three visits to a school psychologist.”

Kuroo can’t hold back a chuckle. That seems like ages ago. They used to hate each other for real back then. From today’s perspective, these memories are amusing rather than embarrassing or worth of regret.

“And in the end we had to do this trust exercise,” Daishou continues. “The psycho-dude was reckless, we could easily break our necks. But it worked, we caught each other ‘cause we wanted this to end and surely didn’t want to get punished again. Right?”

“Right,” Kuroo agrees. “Just one question. Why are we talking about this shit while we are all horny?”

“Because.” Daishou’s voice sounds soft and insistent at the same time. “I didn’t catch you because I was scared of adults. I thought that was the reason at first. But then I saw you falling into my arms and I understood I didn’t want you to get hurt like that. I could beat you to death when you had a chance to fight back. I could play mind games with you and fool you around when you had a chance to be clever enough to figure that out. But when you were falling — it was all my responsibility.”

Kuroo remembered well what came next. He felt so frightened and suspicious that when he was finally safe and not on the floor but instead in Daishou’s embrace, he couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t pay much attention at that moment, but Daishou was clinging to his shoulders for several absolutely unnecessary seconds. Now this little detail stirs up warmth in his chest.

“I’ll never hurt you when you are so defenseless,” Daishou says. “Do you believe me?”

“Okay, fine! Do whatever you want, just stop ruining the image of a bastard I have of you, that’s too precious to me!”

“I like you.” Daishou pecks him on a cheekbone and rolls over on top of him. “Although you are such an asshole.”

He doesn’t give Kuroo any chance to respond, immediately occupying Kuroo’s mouth with his tongue. And if you ask Kuroo, kisses are a million times better than lame conversations that make him soft like a jelly. He prefers to be hard. And he actually is as soon as Daishou grinds against him, the fabric of his clothes rough against bare skin, while licking the insides of Kuroo’s mouth eagerly.

“I will bite you,” whispers Daishou into his ear, slightly out of breath, “a lot. And it is going to hurt. A lot.”

Kuroo swallows. He is not sure if Daishou expects any answer but says, just in case:

“Okay.” That's the most complicated word he can manage at the moment.

He trembles at the sensation of lips pressing to his neck. He is ready for pain but it doesn't come right away — there are just lips and tongue licking him wet. Daishou traces a vein down to the collarbone, explores every curve with a tip of his tongue, and only then does he bites the crook of Kuroo’s neck. The pain explodes with a wave of heat and glimmering dots under his closed lids. Kuroo lets out a pathetic mewl at the sensation of the teeth sinking into his flesh. The next bite is right beside the first one, and then there is the next one, and one more until his shoulders and neck are burning.

“Don’t... stop,” demands Kuroo with a quiet moan. It’s either an echo in his clouded mind or Daishou moans too.

He sucks on the sore skin under the collarbone, and Kuroo chokes on too much air. That’s so bad. And so good. He pants and writhes under Daishou having no control over his own body and its reactions. By now his neck is so ruined that even a slight touch short-circuits his brain immediately. Kuroo is not sure anymore if Daishou continues to bite or just kisses instead. Although, he is sure when Daishou pulls back. Kuroo tries to gather his molten thoughts. For a moment nothing happens at all.

“Hey,” he calls under his breath.

Suddenly there is a weird touch to his head, something is pressing to his ears, and Kuroo recognizes wireless headphones. Daishou's voice sounds muffled as if reaching from the water depth.

“I'll turn on the music,” he says. “Tell me if it's uncomfortably loud or too silent.”

“So kind of you,” Kuroo teases. He can imagine that sour face. Although he knows, when it comes to serious stuff, Daishou really cares for him, and so does Kuroo.

Music starts playing just at the right volume — Daishou must have adjusted it beforehand. The melody is neutral, something that could easily be called “chill playlist for studying and concentration”. Kuroo is sure to stop noticing it soon, but the main thing is that he can't hear anything else.

The world around ceases to exist. A touch comes as if from nowhere: warm palms stroke the undersides of his arms, move down to his chest and belly and finally wrap around his cock. Daishou smears the precum and cups Kuroo’s balls with one hand, while the other plays with his nipples.

“Fuck,” exhales Kuroo, not knowing whether he mutters it out loud or just inside his head.

Daishou’s weight shifts away, he is no longer straddling Kuroo, but he never stops touching him.

Daishou bites him from one side, then scratches from the other, and Kuroo honestly doesn't give a fuck where he is. Space is a mess for him, and time doesn't work anymore.

He is so lost.

He doubts he is even able to come like this because he doesn't feel his own body anymore. It's like a free fall into a void with no end, like a deep trance. However, when Daishou licks his cock from its base up to the tip, his wet, hot mouth becomes the only real thing in this ocean of nothingness. Kuroo arches his back with a shameless groan — something he rarely allows himself in front of Daishou. He doesn’t care. He is melted to the point where there is nothing but pleasure. There is no place for their usual competition of who lasts longer or how far they can push the limits just to prove they have no fears and weaknesses. Kuroo clenches onto the ropes until it hurts, pain bringing him back to reality for a short moment before the orgasm hits him with the power of a thunderstorm wave. He can feel Dashou’s palms pressing his hips down so clearly as if they are burning the imprints into his skin. It slowly turns into soft strokes, Daishou pets his thighs as if to calm down. Maybe Kuroo is shaking. Maybe he is panting too hard. The thumping of his own pulse is now louder than the music.

There is some movement around him and a touch of fingers to his wrists untying the ropes. Only after that Daishou removes the headphones. The blindfold stays on.

The silence around the two of them is too thick, although the music is still playing from somewhere like a white noize. Kuroo reaches blindly with his hand, and he can’t find Daishou — Daishou finds him. He catches Kuroo’s hand and massages sore rope marks.

“I’m… sorry,” Kuroo says hoarsely.

Daishou’s fingers still.

“For what?” he asks with a nervous laugh.

“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”

And now Daishou laughs with amusement and joy making Kuroo wish he had never told him that. He suddenly feels more vulnerable than before, when he was tied up.

“So you actually know this word,” Daishou mocks. “What’s next? You’ll tell me that you love me?”

“You wish!” Kuroo retorts instantly.

Daishou shifts, leans closer.

“Just… When you say that, make sure you look me in the eyes,” he says and finally tugs the fabric away from Kuroo’s head.


	3. Sugawara/Tendou, corset + begging + boot worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the kinkiest so far. It was written for [quicksilverys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/quicksilverys/pseuds/quicksilverys) who also beta-read it as well as all other chapters.

When Suga enters the bedroom, he sees Tendou right where he has left him: in the middle of the room on his knees with hands folded behind his back wearing nothing but boxers. It must have been quite a challenge for him to stay still. Suga’s preparation today has taken some time, but Tendou will definitely appreciate it and his patience will be rewarded.

The sound of high heels clicking on the wooden floor makes Tendou perk his head up and peek over his shoulder.

“Oh god,” he gasps as Suga walks past him slowly, swaying his hips absolutely on purpose.

Suga is totally aware of how stunning he looks. He himself almost got turned on from a single glance into the mirror. Black leather corset hugs his waist tightly, creating a beautiful curve down to the hips and contrasting perfectly against the milky skin of his chest. The set is completed with tight black shorts and thigh high boots.

Suga turns around feeling like a model on a runway. He freezes in what should seem a relaxed pose, with one hand on his waist, weight shifted to one side and back slightly arched. In fact, it takes a hell of an effort, especially on four-inch heels, but it is well worth it. Tendou’s insistent gaze is almost able to burn him alive.

“Do you like it?” Suga asks although the answer is obvious. He moves his hand teasingly along the outlines of corset boning and tugs at the taut edge that stings the skin of his chest at every inhale like metal claws.

Tendou eyes him from head to toes, lingering over every little detail. Although there are no silky ribbons, lace or playful bows — only a smooth texture of leather and silver clasps shimmering dimly in a soft light of their bedroom. This restrained design is the most appropriate for Suga’s dominant role, and he can tell that Tendou loves it — it is written all over his thrilled eyes with wide-blown pupils.

Suga lowers himself into a chair slowly and crosses his legs. It is even harder to breathe like this, and his spine feels like an unbendable rod.

“Come here,” he calls with a luring gesture of his hand.

Without getting up from his knees, Tendou moves closer until he is within Suga’s reach. He looks up expectantly, a faint smile playing on his lips.

Suga tries to act relaxed as hard as he can. He leans to the side, resting his chin on the heel of his palm, shifts in the chair and ends up pressing one foot between Tendou’s legs. Just as planned. Tendou shivers but save for that he doesn’t move. Only strained muscles on his thighs give away how hard it is for him to stay motionless. He is like a well-trained pet, who won't reach for a treat until the permission is granted, and Suga is proud of them both.

“Do you want something?” he asks.

A few seconds pass in a hesitant silence. Tendou looks away, his cheeks flushing a bit.

“May I… move, please?” he says finally.

“Move?” Suga knows exactly what he means, but it’s part of their game — he needs Tendou to say it out loud, no matter how embarrassed he feels.

“Move my hips.”

“You know you get nothing if you don’t ask properly, right?” Suga adds a bit of a pressure against his crotch, rubbing it slightly and hoping that it will help Tendou to speak. “Come on, say it. Say: I want to jerk off rubbing myself against your leg like an animal.”

“Sir…” Tendou whispers. He licks his dry lips quickly. “Please. I want… I want to jerk off against your leg. May I?”

His face is now almost as red as his hair. Suga can't resist the urge to caress his blushing cheek.

“You are such a good boy. It makes me happy when you behave. You have my permission.”

Despite his vivid awkwardness when it comes to voicing his desires, Tendou doesn’t hold back. He rocks his hips immediately, letting out a groan. Still looking away, he grinds against Suga’s ankle and presses his hard cock to his shin trying to get more friction but it must be not enough. He bites his lip in frustration, closes his eyes and throws his head back.

Suga watches him mesmerized. He adores every part of his lover: this fiery hair, sharp bones and lean muscles, the scattering of freckles — every single one of them. The evidence of how obsessed Suga can be is still visible in the form of old faded hickeys on Tendou's neck and bite marks standing out against the pale skin of his chest. Suga loves to spoil him like this, paint him red and violet and livid — all colors of pain.

“That’s enough,” Suga says, and Tendou stops, panting heavily.

Suga leans forward to leave a short kiss on his lips, stealing a breathy moan from him. He traces bruises scattered over Tendou’s ribs with his fingertips, finding them blindly for he has a whole map of Tendou’s body in his memory. Tendou inhales sharply as he brushes his nails against his nipple.

“Let me help you now” Suga purrs into Tendou’s ear. He has several scenarios in mind and for now he lets Tendou choose.

Tendou opts to refuse.

“No…” he shakes his head. “I want to suck you off first.”

“Huh, you want to put your mouth to work so desperately?” Suga looks him in the eyes checking his reaction. At last, Tendou doesn't avert his gaze.

“Yes. I need it so badly.”

Suga sits upright pretending to muse on it for a moment before he responds.

“Then lick my boots. And if you are any good, I'll consider treating you to something better.”

Suga has been planning this all along, so his shoes are almost sterile. The best part of it is that Tendou has no idea whether they are clean or no but seems to obey anyway. He squirms sliding his knees wider to find a balance as he leans forward. He doesn't need another reminder to keep his hands behind his back — once ordered to do so in the very beginning of the session he doesn't try to break the rule. Suga can't help but get overwhelmed with gratitude and admiration. Rather than to keep it all to himself, he says:

“Here you go, so good. The best for me.”

Tendou moans at the praise and licks a shiny surface of Suga's boot leaving a wet streak. He kisses and sucks the folds at the ankle with so much devotion as if it’s not just a rough artificial material. Suga cannot even feel his touches, but the sight along with the filthy wet noises is enough to give him a fever. Gradually moving up Tendou works his tongue thoroughly until he reaches the edge of the boot. He stops there not daring to lick Suga’s skin.

“Do you want me to continue?” His lips curl into a smile. He enjoys it so obviously, his embracement now totally replaced with a new-found confidence. “Let me touch you. Don’t I deserve it, Sir?”

Suga smiles back at him and tangles his fingers in Tendou’s hair.

“Sure you do. You gave me such a beautiful performance,” he says and he really means it.

Tendou’s eyes sparkle with excitement as Suga spreads his legs and finally tugs Tendou closer.


	4. Ushijima/Tendou, orgasm denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is for [Herr_Pechvogel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herr_Pechvogel/pseuds/Herr_Pechvogel). Thank you for the request!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, guys, you can find a day 9 prompt as [a stand-alone bokuaka fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16319678).

Tendou is a tease.

He is totally aware of how annoying he can get, and he enjoys it wholeheartedly.

To tease someone as stubborn as Wakatoshi is the most interesting. Every time he gives up his composure, even a bit, is a win for Tendou.

But sometimes it goes all the wrong way.

 

Tendou puts his evil plan into action early in the morning. He casually sends a picture taken in a bathroom mirror: he is in his briefs only, with one hand gripping his morning boner. And a caption: “woke up like this”. Wakatoshi reads the message but ignores it, so Tendou adds a minute later: “gonna get off in the shower thinking of you, babe”. The reply reads just: “I remember asking you not to call me that”.

Later during the day Tendou sends some more shameless nudes prepared beforehand. He has a bunch of them in a secret folder on his phone, just in case.

“I’m in my class trying to concentrate rn,” Wakatoshi texts.

“Sorry,” Tendou replies adding a smug face emoji which invalidates the apology.

When they see each other after the classes at the volleyball practice, Wakatoshi gives him a look — implying a warning maybe, but Tendou always interprets it as a sign to go on. So he waits until everyone has gone to the gym and the two of them are alone in the locker room. Tendou plays for time looking for kinesio tape and kneepads and then a water bottle in his bag for all eternity. He knows Wakatoshi will wait for him as he always does.

"I’m ready," he finally says. "Let’s go, we’ll be late!"

He urges Wakatoshi as if it was not his fault they fell behind.

Just when Wakatoshi is going to open the door and walk out to the corridor, Tendou presses against his back, slides his hands up under his T-shirt and exhales hot air almost touching Wakatoshi’s nape with his lips. He can feel Wakatoshi's abdominal muscles stiffen under his palms.

"I’ve missed you," Tendou murmurs.

"Me too," Wakatoshi says frankly. "And you don’t make it easier."

Oh, Tendou hopes so.

He lets go of Wakatoshi and heads to the practice like it was nothing.

 

Later that evening they go to Wakatoshi’s house together. The air is filled with anticipation, it's almost sparkling with static electricity when they reach the apartment. Tendou doesn’t need to ask to know for sure that it’s not only him — both of them have white-hot nerves.

The moment the door shuts behind them, Wakatoshi pulls Tendou close and kisses him deeply. He is eager and does nothing to hide it. Without interrupting the kiss, he drags Tendou to the bedroom, pushes him on the sheets, undresses him and kisses again and again.

Everything Tendou has done today was precisely to elicit this reaction.

He hopes they can do it twice: first rough and fast, just to get rid of the tension, and then slowly. Making love rather than fucking. As if reading his mind, Wakatoshi drops unnecessary foreplay. The clothes are gone incredibly fast, and a lube bottle appears as if from nowhere. Tendou melts into the sheets feeling a wet touch to his entrance. And he can't — and doesn't want to — hold back a moan when Wakatoshi pushes two fingers inside, filling him up, building even more heat under his skin. It feels good. Promising.

Fighting a desire to throw his head back and close his eyes, Tendou watches Wakatoshi’s face attentively. These tiny signs of his composure falling apart — a swollen vein on the temple, a slight shimmer of sweat, pupils blown wide — are dazzling and precious. If Tendou were to forget everything but for one image, he would choose to remember this face in front of him.

With no more patience left, Tendou slides one hand down, past his already leaking cock, and pushes two fingers inside along with Wakatoshi’s. It’s tight and hot, his hole clenches against the pressure reflexively.

"Oh fuck… I can’t," he mumbles. "Wait anymore…"

He stretches himself — they stretch him together, fingers moving out of synch — for a few more moments until he is trembling with impatience.

Tendou grips his legs right under the knees and pulls them higher. He is all spread, and open, and, hopefully, seductive. This is a clear invitation, and Wakatoshi accepts it. He leans forward resting on his elbows.

"Shameless," Wakatoshi comments in a hoarse whisper.

"I am. We both are."

With a kiss, Wakatoshi pushes inside, one sharp motion that knocks all the air out of Tendou's lungs. Wasting no time, he picks a steady rhythm, finds a good leverage sinking his knees into the mattress and thrusts hard. There is this special kind of wild in Wakatoshi, the same whether he crushes a rival on the court or bites Tendou’s lips and squeezes his thighs to leave painful bruises.

Tendou jerks himself off, and it doesn’t take much time to reach his limit, not with the pace like this. He is ready to come when Wakatoshi suddenly stops, pulls the cock out of him and grabs his wrist. Tendou opens his eyes in surprise. He would freeze if it wasn’t for this uncontrollable shaking in his whole body. 

"What’s wrong?" he asks under his breath.

He stares at Wakatoshi’s face searching for any sign of concern. His cheekbones are flushed but otherwise he looks normal.

"Everything is fine," he answers lazily stroking his dick which by the way is supposed to be buried deep inside Tendou right now.

"Just what the fuck," Tendou whines leaning back onto the pillow. "I was close!"

"I know."

Tendou blinks away the glaring spots, tries to give an annoyed look but his focus goes off again as Wakatoshi touches his stretched slick hole. He rubs gently on the rim, so sensitive after all the friction it sends shivers; then he pushes two fingers inside to the first knuckle. Tendou jerks his hips on a reflex, fingers slide a bit further but the sensation is still not enough. Not after he had that fat cock inside.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

Tendou doesn’t expect an actual answer to that question. However...

"You made me wait. The whole day," Wakatoshi says, his voice low and dark. "Now I’m making you wait."

"Shit, what have I done," Tendou chuckles nervously.

He wants to whimper in despair. He wants to break up with Wakatoshi right fucking now and go get off by himself. But — he slowly breathes in and out — he wants to see how far it can go. He is amused. A bit terrified, but also amused.

"C’mere," he says tugging Wakatoshi closer and demanding a kiss.

Their lips are dry from hard breathing at first, and then it’s all wet and sloppy since Tendou never holds back with his tongue. Without backing away Wakatoshi lines up his cock with his entrance. The pressure is just as good as the first time, thick head stretches the rim, slowly slides inside. And then with one thrust he is sheathed to the full length. Tendou gasps into the kiss, moans hoarsely.

"Yes, here you go," he whispers, "fuck me like you mean it."

Wakatoshi grunts and pinches Tendou’s nipple in a revenge for whatever he is angry for, before starting to move again as if he’s never stopped. The arousal that has slightly weakened now bursts with a whole new pleasure. Wakatoshi’s moves are steady, strong, every push making Tendou shudder. He reaches to stroke himself but he barely manages to touch the head with his fingertips when Wakatoshi catches both his wrists again and pins them to the mattress. His grip is painful and the pressure, his weight as he rests upon him, is overpowering.

After that, he moves excruciatingly slow. Still holding Tendou tight he rolls his hips forward and then back until only head is inside.

"Please," Tendou’s moans are more of a sobbing now. He has no control over these sounds, the feeling of being unsatisfied, deprived, punished in the best way possible overwhelming him. "Please, I’ll be good, I’ll never do that again." He lies because he knows Wakatoshi won’t believe him anyway. He would never fool him for real. Now he needs it — needs to beg and promise whatever he can.

Tendou fights back without result, he’ll more likely have his arms broken than get free from this grip. When he bucks his hips trying to get more, Wakatoshi’s length slips out of him completely leaving nothing but emptiness. Tendou curses voicelessly. Even if it is as devastating for Wakatoshi as it is for Tendou, he doesn't show it. His mouth presses against Tendou's neck, tongue trails veins and strained muscles.

"I’ll let you go if you behave," Wakatoshi says looking up and licking his lips.

"I will, I told ya," and now that’s almost true.

Even when free, Tendou's wrists keep aching in a pleasing way. He clenches his fists several times to help blood flow but mostly to distract himself. Wakatoshi keeps nipping at his throat, sucking painful marks. He grinds a little back and forth and Tendou shrivels at the contact it makes to his dripping cock.

Suddenly there is an arm under the small of his back, and the world turns around. Wakatoshi flips him over until Tendou is straddling him still dizzy from too much motion.

"Can I… move?" he asks completely out of breath. His lungs are burning. So is his whole body.

Wakatoshi waits for a long frightening second and then nods. Tendou feels like he is going to faint just from the thought that he may come. With a trembling hand he guides the cock inside, slowly lowers himself down, and god it fits so perfectly there, and now it seems like everything he has ever wanted.

"So good," he says silently.

He feels large strong palms resting on his thighs without forcing or directing, just petting randomly down to the knees and back. After a few minutes of hopping up and down Tendou's muscles start hurting but at this point there is nothing able to stop him. He increases the pace not getting enough. His cock jolts with every thrust and in the absence of any other stimulation it pushes him to the limit. Very close but not quite there.

His hands are free now but somehow he can’t touch himself, he is already obsessed with these rules of a slow game. He can wait for Wakatoshi to give up. Or he can ask at least.

"...toshi," his throat is dry and voice is cracking. "I can't. Like this."

It feels as if he has been orgasming for the last ten minutes, so intense is the pleasure, but in fact he can’t get over the edge. He just needs a bit more, one touch maybe, even a slow one. He looks Wakatoshi in the eyes, meets his devouring gaze and doesn't know why — but smiles wildly. He would laugh if he had enough energy for that, if it wasn't all concentrating down in his stomach.

Without saying a word, Wakatoshi squeezes his thighs and pushes up, again and again, so deep, so hot it eliminates Tendou to nothing. He shakes feverishly, as the come spills over Wakatoshi’s stomach and chest. He continues to move through his orgasm until he falls forward ignoring the mess between their bodies. Wakatoshi holds him tight not letting him to roll over to the side and slams into his oversensitive hole. It’s more than Tendou can handle, all his senses are washed away, and the next thing he perceives, probably minutes later, is a soft kiss to his lips, nice aftershocks running through his veins like electricity and sperm leaking down his thighs.

"Remember I said I would never tease you again?" Tendou mumbles still panting. Wakatoshi hums affirmatively. "Screw that, I should tease you more often."

After a pause, Wakatoshi just sighs. What else can he do anyway.


End file.
